Home Is Where You Are
by Fiyeraaron
Summary: Combeferre and Éponine were an inevitability for Les Amis.


I should be revising for finals right now. Oh well.

* * *

It's almost an unspoken rule that Combeferre and Éponine are meant for each other. Originally, the couple were purely platonic, and, sure, they laughed and shared many a conversation, which led to many secrets being shared, but that didn't mean they were completely devoted to each other.

No, in the beginning, Éponine was just a friend to all of them. She drew all of them in with her witty personality and snide remarks. Her intelligence helped them in their strive to fight oppression, and her life experience taught them all the things they couldn't possibly understand.

But then Combeferre walked her home one night, and suddenly Grantaire came up with this crazy idea that Combeferre liked Éponine. Which totally wasn't true at that time, it was just that Combeferre was a gentleman and didn't want Éponine to be left outside alone. But, nevertheless, Grantaire persevered and rumoured that Combeferre liked Éponine. Which, from going person to person, turned into Combeferre being in love with Éponine. And, since they were all friends with Combeferre, they didn't want him to be left with unreciprocated feelings, so the rumour evolved into Éponine and Combeferre having unresolved feelings for each other. It was a crazy half an hour.

And, eventually, the couple heard about it. Éponine was pissed, angry when she heard that they had been 'spreading shit' about her. Combeferre, on the other hand, blushed a deep shade of red, which fuelled his friends even more. Éponine quickly disregarded Grantaire's delusional ideas, and Combeferre kept quiet. They never did start dating, but Grantaire, Courfeyrac, and Jehan (the fanboys that they are) kept the couple alive, if only in their heads.

You're probably wondering why this has anything to do with him, right? And the answer is pretty explicit. At least in his head. It all happened pretty fast in all honesty. But, to be fair, he really should know by now that not all things that begin and end quickly are simple. He sure had enough evidence to back that up.

One night, when Combeferre had a cold and was under the strict instructions of Joly to stay at home and rest, he had walked Éponine home. He certainly hoped that Éponine didn't do what she did with him to all the people that walked her home.

He had ended up staying the night, his arms wrapped tight around her naked body as she slept. It was probably the most peaceful sleep he had ever had, and he's sure it wasn't only from the softness of the sheets.

The next morning, they were inseparable. They kissed, but once they got to the café, no matter how much he tried to communicate with her with their friends around, she would completely blank him. He tried to hold her hand, just like he had not four hours ago, but she had crossed her arms and walked away from him. It seemed their whole relationship was based on when they were alone. Nothing was public. Not even eye contact apparently.

He wishes he could say it didn't hurt him, but he's past the point of lying to himself by now. He had always been the type of man to pride himself in the things he accomplished, and he always felt the need to show them off and make people sure that whatever it was belonged to him. He was territorial; primal, and, at his worst times, possessive.

She had confirmed that they were dating when she was laid on top of him the second night. They had gone to his house, and everything went back to normal once they were out of the watchful eyes of their friends. She seemed happier when it was just the two of them, which was okay. It seemed as though he was the only person to get her like this, so he would take what he could get.

And he would take a lot. They hadn't been without each other for three days when Saturday rolled around. They had either been at one of their houses, or at the café with their friends, or walking home together. And in those three days, he had somehow fallen in love.

He doesn't remember it happening. Marius had explained his love as being discovered in a 'burst of light', instantaneous and abrupt. But that didn't happen for him. Those three days felt like the longest days of his life, and he had relished every moment of it. He thinks it had a cumulative effect, in which it had developed, and he had learned, slowly, to love.

On the Saturday, Combeferre was permitted by Joly to return to the café, and Éponine became more distant than ever. She spent the whole day with Combeferre, and, at the end of the night, Combeferre had walked her home, leaving him stood there with a frown on his face.

She didn't speak to him the next time they saw each other, or the next. She didn't speak to him when Combeferre had professed his love for her publicly in the café. She didn't even have the decency to talk to him when Combeferre proposed and she accepted.

In hindsight, the time in which he had spent with Éponine had gone all too fast. Her love was fleeting, like a fire that had been lit too quickly, only a spark that was extinguished easily. But his had, in those few days, progressively been created, and, he supposes, that meant his fire was going to last a lifetime.


End file.
